


Don’t You (Forget About Me)

by LFC_FanficWorld



Category: Liverpool fc - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 12:08:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17549417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LFC_FanficWorld/pseuds/LFC_FanficWorld
Summary: Why have Liverpool forgotten about Steven Gerrard?





	Don’t You (Forget About Me)

**Author's Note:**

> Sat here at near 11 at night on a Friday bored out of my mind listening to nightcore and this depressing plot came into my head, so enjoy XDDD

 

“Trying to forget someone you loved is like trying to remember someone you never met.” - anonymous

 

-

 

The last time Steven Gerrard played for Liverpool Football Club, he felt such an outpouring of support and love from all angles that it was almost overwhelming. He stepped out, wearing the black 14/15 away kit, to raucous applause, not just from the pocket of Liverpool fans tucked away in a corner of the bet365 stadium, but also the Stoke City fans packed into every stand of the ground. He felt the pulse of matchday excitement, like it was every time he stepped out as a Liverpool player. Yet today, he felt subdued, slightly sick. His last match as a Liverpool player, after a lifetime of dedication to the club he has supported since birth. 

If he could’ve picked a way to say goodbye to the club that made up his life, it would be in a major final - the Champions League final, maybe an FA Cup final. He still remembers the “Gerrard Final” and his incredible stoppage time equaliser against West Ham. Instead, he was winding up away at Stoke in the Premier League with only pride to play for. It wasn’t an ideal send-off. 

No matter how unromantic the scene, nothing could’ve prepared him for the horror show Liverpool were about to put on for their travelling fans. 

It was one hour and thirteen minutes, to be precise, for those Liverpool fans to travel from Merseyside to Stoke. By the end of it, they would’ve wished they’d stayed at home.

Steven Gerrard scored once in a 6-1 loss. The match was a debacle, from start to finish, and Steven felt ashamed to call himself a part of this pathetic showing. Yet, when he scored, every fan in the bet365 stadium rose and applauded him. He knew, then, that this was goodbye.

 

-

 

That was in 2015. It’s 2017 now, and Steven is coming back from a short stint at LA Galaxy to take up a coaching role for the under-17s at Melwood. He’s flown over and he’s driving into the Anfield car park, his stomach fizzing with excitement at seeing his old team again. He looks instinctively for his usual reserved parking spot from when he’d still played here, but there is a car parked in it already.

He is surprised, but not enough to linger on it. It’s been two years, after all, and he is bound to have been out of the limelight. He parks next to the car, and gets out, breathing in the beautiful Merseyside air.

”Can I help you?”

Steven jumps as a familiar Scouse voice rings across the car park. He allows a smile to cross his face as he recognises the voice as that of Jamie Carragher. He turns, a big happy grin on his face, but Jamie’s face is accusing, bemused. “Can I help you?” he repeats.

Steven feels confused. “Jamie, it’s me,” he says. “Steven Gerrard?”

”Who?” Jamie’s eyes are viewing Steven suspiciously, and Steven feels a creeping worry in his heart. 

“Steven Gerrard. You know, you played for Liverpool with me...” Steven does some quick maths in his head. “You played with me for, like, fourteen years!”

”I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jamie replies firmly. “And you’ve just parked in my spot.”

Steven stares at him. “Don’t you remember me, Jamie?” he whispers. “I’ve only been gone a couple of years.”

”Gone where?”

”I played for Liverpool last in 2015,” Steven says in a rush. “I’ve been in LA for a few years. But I’m coming back, I’m coaching the under-17s - “

Jamie holds up a silencing hand. “I think you’ll find I’m the new coach the under-17s,” he tells Steven. “Now unless you need to see someone at the club you need to leave the premises.” He fixes the other man with a steely glare. “Now.”

Steven shakes his head slightly, utterly baffled, and gets in his car without a word. Jamie turns around and goes into Anfield, shutting the doors behind him. Steven can see other people filtering through behind the glass. He recognises some of them, and the names go through his head. 

Jordan Henderson.

Philippe Coutinho.

Surely some of them remembered him.

He thinks of all his previous teammates.

Xabi Alonso!

He pulls out his phone and opens it, flicking onto the phone app and dialling Xabi’s number. He presses it anxiously to his ear, nibbling absent-mindedly on a thumbnail. It rings twice, and then Xabi answers.

”Hello?” he says. Too formal.

”Xabi?” Steven feels so happy to hear his familiar, Spanish accent, he almost laughs out loud.

”Yeah? Who is this?”

”It’s Steven. Steven Gerrard.”

”Sorry?”

Steven feels agonising hurt in his heart. “Steven Gerrard! I used to play for Liverpool with you!”

”I - I never played with a Steven Gerrard.” Xabi sounds cautious. “I don’t remember anything about that.”

”Oh...”

Steven rubs his forehead in despair. Why do none of these players remember him?

He grips the phone tighter. “Look me up,” he says urgently. “Online. Type it in.”

He hears a scuffle at the other end of the line, and then Xabi’s voice again. “There’s nothing...”

Steven hangs up. He drops the phone into his lap, wondering what has happened. It’s only been two years, and the entire memory of Steven Gerrard seems to have been wiped from history, and he has no idea why.

He fumbles with his phone and scrolls through all his contacts. Luis Suárez. Surely Luis would remember him? He clicks on the number, and texts him.

Steven

Hey, Luis. It’s Steven 

 

Luis

Oh, hi. Do you have the credit card yet?

 

Steven

What?

 

Luis

This is Steven Angelo right?

 

Steven

No it’s Steven Gerrard. From Liverpool??

 

Luis

Sorry think you might have the wrong number

 

Steven

No Luis I don’t. I need to talk

 

Steven

Why does no one remember me?

 

Luis

Call someone else this isn’t the Luis you’re looking for sorry :/

 

Steven looks down at his lap. There’s an ache in his heart, like heartburn, but duller, softer.

It feels like being forgotten.

 

 


End file.
